CHAPTER 12

MARY GOLD

When Jake and I climbed onto his motorcycle to ride to the pastor’s house,  I couldn’t be more thankful to God! The most all around, attractive man that I had ever met wanted to marry me! Me, nerdy, clumsy Mary Gold Horner. As I snuggled into Jake’s back side, the air never felt more refreshing, the sunlight shimmering through trees never more vibrant, and the birds never sang more blissfully.

How would the Pastor and his wife react? Would he marry us next week? Next month? Would he insist we do premarital counseling for an extended period of time? I was ready to get married right that day if it was actually possible.

Pastor Kirk Samson and his wife are wonderful people.  With his long white beard and white hair, he looked sort of like a Santa Claus.  I say sort of because for a man in his mid-fifties, he was incredibly lean and fit. This was due to a healthy diet, a running habit, and years of practicing karate.

You would never guess that Mrs. Samson was a black belt in karate herself.  She was barely over five feet tall and petite. She couldn’t have been much over one hundred pounds. At five foot eleven,  I am a bit tall for a woman, so around Mrs. Samson, I felt like a giant.

As well as being known as “Pastor Samson,” our church’s leader was also known by the moniker “Captain Kirk.” He received this nickname after achieving the rank of Captain during his time in the army, where he served as a Chaplin. He was also a veteran of the Vietnam war.

Even though we dropped in unannounced, the Samson’s greeted us with warmth and delight. We didn’t waste any time letting them know the reason for our visit.

“Wonderful!” Pastor Samson declared with a big smile.  He went to the piano and began playing the wedding march.

“Have you set a date?” Mrs. Samson asked when the pastor finished playing.

“As soon as possible,” Jake declared.

Pastor Samson’s face fell and my heart sank a tiny bit.

“You don’t mean today?” Pastor asked as his eyebrows arched. “Are you to trying to elope?”

“We don’t have a marriage license yet,” I said.

Pastor looked relieved. “I see.”

I wasn’t a girl that always dreamed of a big wedding. In fact I wanted just the opposite.  The thought of a huge wedding with hundreds of eyeballs watching terrified me.  I simply dreamed of being a mother and having a loving husband with a home in the country that had a white picket fence. This fantasy actually became reality less than a decade after Jake and I tied the knot. And we tied that knot tight!

On Saturday July 12, 1986, right after church, with both of our families present, I became Mrs. Mary Gold Weston. The time that we got married couldn’t have worked out better.  Jake already had that week scheduled off for vacation, and we both decided that we urgently wanted to get married.  Our desire to be intimate had become intense, yet we waited almost a year before we even kissed for the first time.

There are those who have insinuated, ‘yeah, well you got married in less than a year. It’s recommended that you court for at least two. That’s not exactly overly disciplined.’ My reply is that Jake and I crammed at least two, maybe three years, of getting to know each other as friends in that first year. That is compared to the average couple. We talked daily, and often long and deeply.

Having lived by the Bible since childhood, I’ve never understood the current mindset on sex, dating, and marriage.  Physically speaking, I found Jake attractive enough to have sex with the day that we first met. Yet I wouldn’t have even considered having sex with him outside of the marriage commitment.

The modern norm seems to indicate that couples should wait multiple years before marrying.  Yet more often than not, couples cohabitate long before the recommended two years. As a friend of Jake’s once put it, ‘I wouldn’t by a car without a test drive.’

I understand that sentiment from a worldly standpoint. But the Bible instructs us to come out of the world. And as I have always endeavored to have the Kingdom of God within me, I don’t view sex casually. Uniting your privates, with another person’s privates, is the most intimate activity you can do. As a matter of fact, it can even procreate life.

Let me just conclude the matter with this thought. It was worth the wait! The night of our wedding was the most exciting time of my life. I also couldn’t imagine deeper feelings of love for another. That is until I held my child for the first time. Yet that child came from those feelings of love. And it was consummated at the end of that beautiful, sunny, summer day in 1986.

The first night of our honeymoon was incredible.  We found a quaint little hotel in northeast Iowa, which overlooked the Mississippi River.  I had heard so many women talk about losing their virginity outside of marriage, and it seemed it was often a negative experience.  They felt a sense of something lost, of being used, or even violated.  I was so grateful to God that I felt the opposite.  It was so nice to lie in bed after having sex with a clear conscience, and to offer a silent prayer of thanksgiving for what had just happened.  To know that Jake and I were now truly one in the physical as well as the spiritual sense.  That day and night we became a family, even though it was just the two of us for the time being. But it was only temporary.

On May 8, 1988, I was given the best Mother’s Day gift ever when I gave birth to a beautiful little girl, Jamie Annabelle. The significance of our daughter’s middle name will be explained later. On July 8, 1990, we were blessed with a son who we named Matthew Mark.

On Labor Day weekend 1991, Jake and I were sitting on a bench at a playground, watching our daughter play in a giant sand box as her little brother napped on my lap.  It was a beautiful afternoon, sunny with a high of seventy five.  I couldn’t believe that we were the only family at the playground on such a gorgeous day.  There was dryness in the air and you could feel autumn looming in the distance.

Jamie was playing on a backhoe apparatus with two levers connected to a scoop that moved the sand around.  When she was done playing on it and was climbing off, she caught her little foot on the seat and went down hard.  She got up crying and Jake was immediately at her side.  In less than half of a minute with him, she went from sobbing to giggling.  

My heart swelled with gratitude for what a wonderful father and husband this little family had.  It was something I had thought countless times already.  My own father had abandoned his family to satisfy carnal longings. I knew in my heart that Jake would never leave or forsake us like my own dad did.

As I watched my husband and daughter, I did something I had never done before.  I put myself in my daughter’s shoes and imagined for a minute what it would be like to be a little girl with Jake as my father.  I fully realized then that a husband is a type of father even to his wife, and vice versa the wife to the husband.  I had a share with my children with similar love, attention, and protection that he gave to them.  And I nurtured and cared for many of his needs as I did our children.

When I thought that I couldn’t possibly love my husband more than I already did, a fresh wave of love and emotion surged through me, causing me to catch my breath.  My hand went to my chest and my eyes clouded with tears as Jake returned to my side while Jamie ran to a toddler slide.

“Hey,” Jake said soothingly as he noticed my tears. He put a reassuring hand on my leg, chuckling. “She’s alright.”

“Oh, I know she is.  She’s more than alright,” I told him as I cupped a hand behind his head pulling his face to mine, kissing him with passion.

“Wow, what’s gotten into you?”

“You get into me,” I said with a seductive smile.  I began singing softly to him Rod Stewart’s song that goes ‘you’re in my heart, you’re in my soul.’  He joined me, but after several lines we didn’t know how it continued and we laughed.  Then he cupped a hand behind my head intending to continue the lip lock. But I pulled away and put my lips to his ear.

“Tonight, big boy,” I said teasingly.

That night our third and final child might have been conceived.  Luke John was born May 25, 1992, on Memorial Day, exactly one week before his due date.

JAKE and ANNABELLE KNIGHT

A month after Mary Gold and I were married, a woman named Belle began working at Lake Produce through a temp service. She was around forty, and really quite beautiful in a rough sort of way.

She had long blonde hair, big blue eyes, and a chest that seemed a bit large for her slender frame. Yet overhearing conversation, she never had any cosmetic surgery. Her demeanor was gentle, yet somehow tough. I began to notice that her eyes often seemed sad and weary.

I would eventually find out that she was a former stripper and nude model. In the world of adult entertainment, she had been a minor celebrity. But now that she was getting too old for that profession, she was in a transitory position in life. Given her melancholy moods, the transition didn’t seem to be going well.

She and I actually had our first spiritual conversation after I witnessed her, Lon, and Mervin smoking marijuana. Although I didn’t partake with them, I had gained Lon’s trust that I wouldn’t tell on them.

After work one day, I came upon the three of them in the parking lot. Lon had just fired up a huge joint, took a big pull on it, and passed it to Belle. Belle took a hit and passed it to Mervin. Mervin took a drag, and a small cloud emerged from his mouth.

Lon scowled at him. “Don’t puff it like a cigar, inhale it and hold it.”

“I did,” Mervin replied sheepishly. But when his turn came again, he held it, but didn’t inhale.

“You did it again,” Lon scolded. “Listen, weed don’t grow…” He stopped talking and with a puzzled frown, scratched his head. I think he was going to say weed don’t grow on trees. But when he said weed don’t grow, it threw off his buzzed mind. Then he simply declared. “Weed’s not cheap. If you’re gonna smoke it like a cigar, just get a cigar.”

When Mervin’s turn came around again, he no sooner pulled the wacky tobacky away from his lips when Lon’s strong right hand clamped over Mervin’s mouth, and his left hand anchored on the back of Mervin’s head.

Mervin’s eyes bulged from their sockets as he squirmed frantically. But Lon had at least fifty pounds on him, plus he was just simply a lot stronger. Mervin flopped around like a rag doll for several seconds, then Lon’s hand lowered just enough for Mervin to snort two streams of smoke from his nostrils.

I began laughing hysterically, doubling over, and slapping my knee. It was then that I noticed Belle barely smiled. When the mirth subsided, I said to her. “Is everything alright with you, Belle?”

She looked a little taken aback by my question. Then she shrugged. “Yeah, why?”

My toes curled, afraid to offend her. I was concerned she would tell me to mind my own business. But I felt like God was pressing me to communicate with her. “I’ve just noticed you often seem sad. I wanted to let you know I’m not just a co-worker, I want to be your friend, and I care about you if you ever want to talk.”

“Wow,” she said, smiling just a little bit bigger than the antics with Lon and Mervin. “I didn’t think any guy ever noticed me with my clothes on.”

My mind froze. I didn’t know what to say to that. I thought it was likely she would simply brush me off, but I wasn’t expecting her to comment on her former profession. I hemmed and hawed, and then she did actually laugh. “I’m sorry, Jacob, I know I’m old enough to be your mother. The thought of me in my birthday suit probably creeps you out. That’s why I don’t do it anymore. We all get old and withered.”

“Did you like being a, um, you know?”

“Stripper,” she said matter of factly as she pulled a pack of cigarettes from the front pocket of her jeans. She lit one and blew a stream of smoke skyward. “Did I like taking off my clothes in front of drunk men? No, but the money was good. But it wasn’t good enough that I can retire at forty.”

“There’s more to life than money,” I replied, not knowing what to else say in the moment.

“Is there?” Belle asked with mild sarcasm.  

I wished Mary Gold were here. But I knew she would be beyond uncomfortable with the pot smoking. Maybe I should have to, but Jesus reached people where they were. As long as I didn’t participate, and they weren’t uncomfortable by my presence, I wanted to see if there was an opportunity to witness the hope that was in me.

Laughing at Mervin certainly wasn’t a good witness, but I apologized to him after talking to Belle. He was surprisingly good natured about the situation, and even laughed about it himself. My conversation with Belle didn’t seem like a good witness either. But, unbeknownst to me, I planted a tiny seed that Mary Gold would end up watering and then harvesting in the not too distant future.

“There is,” I told her. “You ought to come to church with my wife and me.”

“No thanks, I’ve been down the religion road before. It seems to be a dead end.”

“Ours is different.”

“That’s what everyone says.”

“It’s not about religion, it’s about Jesus,” I tried, lamenting that I was so inadequate at sharing my faith.

“Oh, Jacob,” she said with a smile, yet her eyes still looked drawn. “You are sweet kid, and I believe the real deal. I hope time doesn’t steal your zeal. The world’s a little brighter with people like you in it. Your wife is one lucky girl.”

“Thanks,” I replied. I didn’t want to become a pest, but did want one more question answered. “Why do you call me Jacob?”

“Isn’t it your name?”

“Well, yeah, but almost everyone calls me Jake.”

“I like Jacob better,” she shrugged. “Because I’ve met a lot guys, and you’re a rare one. I believe that you could see God face to face and your life would be preserved.”

“Genesis chapter 32,” I said with a smile.

She smiled back with a wink. Oh how I wished I could arrange for Mary Gold to talk to Belle. As opposite as the two women were, I just had a feeling they would connect. Maybe I could find some reason for my wife to come out to Lake Produce Inc and meet her. But I needn’t arrange a thing. For God was soon to do the arranging Himself!